


Femslash February Drabbles: Part 1

by aunt_zelda



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, Drabble Collection, F/F, Femslash February, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, Mind Control, Negotiations, Smut, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 12:50:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 3,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9549944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: I plugged all the names of the major female characters from the show into a random generator and picked the combos I got that I was most intrigued by. Took prompts from friends. I tried to make each drabble exactly 300 words long, but some went a little over that.Table of contents as the first chapter.Titled "Part 1" in the hopes that I'll do more of these later this month.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings, if needed, will be specified on each chapter.

Chapter 1: Table of Contents

Chapter 2: Pike/Cassandra: understanding

Chapter 3: Zahra/Keyleth: moon

Chapter 4: Kaylie/Cassandra: grief

Chapter 5: Kaylie/Cassandra: drunk

Chapter 6: Allura/Zahra: fun

Chapter 7: Keyleth/Kaylie: funerals

Chapter 8: Cassandra/Vanessa: negotiation

Chapter 9: Anna Ripley/The Raven Queen: spite

Chapter 10: Pike/Zahra: monstah

Chapter 11: Anna Ripley/Raishan: bickering (over Percy)

Chapter 12: Delilah Briarwood/Kima: radiance 

Chapter 13: Vex’ahlia/Vanessa: profit

Chapter 14: Pike/Delilah Briarwood: rage


	2. Cassandra/Pike: understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: implied/referenced trauma and recovery

What Cassandra appreciated the most was Pike’s silence. The quiet moments shared between them stretched for minutes, hours, and on rare occasions entire spans of time. An afternoon, a morning, sometimes even the blanket of sunset to sunrise.

When Cassandra began to come to the temple, to spend what time she could in Pike’s company, Pike did not ask her questions. At least, not the sort that Cassandra has been hearing over and over. There was none of the usual litany: _Are you ok?_ and _Can I get you anything?_ and _Is it true the guards heard you screaming in the night ?_ or worst of all _Would it not be best to send for your brother, my lady?_ Pike asked if she could hold this, fetch that, assist, draft missives, and help. Simple questions, the same she asked anyone who came to the temple with free hands and a lost look on their face. 

Pike seemed to know, without asking, without speaking a word, what Cassandra needed. Cassandra needed to keep her hands busy and her mind quiet and still. Cassandra needed to hold planks of wood in place for Pike’s hammer and nails, to send out orders for more supplies, to kindle embers into a roaring fire in the temple hearth. Cassandra needed to coax seeds into the long dead earth. Cassandra needed to kiss the hand of the cleric who helped burn Sylas to ash and dust. Cassandra needed to embrace the woman whose surety of spirit she both admired and envied. Cassandra needed to weep and be held. Cassandra needed to be allowed to flee the temple and not return for days. Cassandra needed to lead Pike into her bedchamber in Whitestone and reclaim what had been taken from her. 

Cassandra needed, and Pike had understood.


	3. Zahra/Keyleth: moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zahra/Keyleth: moon

Keyleth can’t sleep. She tosses and turns. Vax slumbers deeply beside her. 

Finally, Keyleth gets up and throws a woolen robe on over her sleeping shift. She leaves the bedchamber quietly and makes her way to the battlements, hoping to pace the walls and tire herself.

Whitestone castle is eerily quiet tonight. Sentries patrol, but everything seems slightly muffled. There’s an odd red-orange tinge to the castle stones.

Keyleth finds Zahra in one of the watchtowers. The stones almost match her skin in this lighting. 

“Blood Moon,” she says, nodding up, eyes wide and dark. 

Keyleth looks. The moon is full, and almost crimson. She’s seen it colored so before, but still, it makes her shiver. 

“The Ashari called it the Hunter’s Moon,” she says, voice hushed. 

“Really?” Zahra turns, focusing her eyes on Keyleth fully. “Are you a hunter tonight?”

A confusing thrill runs through Keyleth. “I … I don’t …” her mouth is dry. 

“Why were you drawn here?” Zahra asks, taking a step forward. 

“… couldn’t sleep …” Keyleth mumbles. 

“Blood Moon,” Zahra says, taking Keyleth’s hand and finding the pulse at her wrist. “Calling you, bringing you here.” Her other hand finds the pulse at Keyleth’s neck, beneath the curve of her jaw. “Can’t you feel it?”

Keyleth surges forward, pressing her lips to Zahra’s. It’s not like kissing Vax, and it’s definitely not like kissing Kashaw, but it’s good. Different. Smoother. Scarier. 

Zahra leans back. “So, you are a hunter after all.” She chuckles. 

Keyleth lowers her head and kisses Zahra’s throat, nosing at the crook of her shoulder, down to the rise and fall of her breasts. She finds fabric blocking her progress and whines.

“Want you,” she growls, her skin burning, her pulse throbbing. 

“So have me,” Zahra gasps out, pulling at the lacing of her blouse.


	4. Kaylie/Cassandra: grief

Kaylie ducks off the road into the woods to find a handy tree to crouch behind. She’s hoisting her trouser back up when she hears the sound of weeping. It’s not the delicate sobbing she’s heard in her life, it’s proper wailing. Not melodramatic like an actress or a con artist either. Loud, unrestrained, deep crying. 

Wary of traps, Kaylie puts a hand on her dagger pommel and sneaks towards the noise. 

She finds a clearing, an outcropping of rocks and a pool beside a small waterfall. There are chunks of ice in it, hidden from the sunlight by the dense forest. 

Huddled by the rocks is a girl. Her hair is dark and her dress is rich, and she’s crying harder than Kaylie’s heard in her life. 

She’s also, apparently, damned hard to sneak up on. 

The girl whirls around, and she’s got a dagger of her own, drawn and held at the ready. 

Kaylie puts up her hands. “Sorry!”

The girl eyes her suspiciously. There are white streaks in her hair. A fashionable choice, or from a fright? 

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Her voice is as posh as her clothes. 

“I’m a musician. My … friend, told me to come to Whitestone.” Kaylie can’t say ‘father,’ not yet. 

The girl glares at her. “If you’re a musician, play some music.”

Kaylie puts her hands on her hips. “Now what should I do that?”

The girl draws herself up imperiously. She isn’t all that tall for a human, but she makes do. “Because I won’t allow liars into my city.”

Kaylie raises her eyebrows. She pulls out her flute and plays a favorite melody. 

The girl relaxes and slide dagger up a diaphanous sleeve. “May I escort you to Whitestone?”

“I’d be honored, milady.” Kaylie smiles.


	5. Kaylie/Cassandra: drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: alcohol use.

Kaylie hopes up onto the chair across from the dark-haired noble girl in the corner of the tavern. “What can I get you?” she asks, smiling bold and broad. 

The girl blinks, shock plain on her pretty features. “Get me?” she asks. 

“To drink.” Keylie winks. 

The girl blushes. “I don’t know?” she manages. 

“What, nobody’s ever bought a gorgeous girl like you a drink? Tried to get to know you better?” Kaylie holds a hand to her heart. “Now that’s a true tragedy.”

That seems to startle a laugh from the girl, at least. “I’ll have whatever you’re having?” she offers, smiling nervously. 

“That’s the spirit!” Kaylie calls for another round, leaning forward on the wooden table. “I’ve seen you at the performances. Don’t like to get close?”

“I can hear fine from the back.” The girl fiddles with the lace at her sleeve cuff. “It’s been a long time since there was proper music here. I hope you’re finding proper welcome in Whitestone.”

“Eh, could be worse,” Kaylie shrugs, and tips the barmaid when she brings the rounds. “Cold as a troll’s nipples but the audiences are good. Happy to hear music again, so I’ve gathered.”

“Quite.” The girl sips from her tankard primly. The coughing and gasping that follows is nowhere close to prim and proper. 

Kaylie roars with laughter. “Keep going!”

The girl screws up her face and takes a proper swig, wincing. “Oh … oh.” She puts a hand to her throat. “It burns?”

“Warms you inside and out. Almost as good as music.” Kaylie drinks deeply from her tankard. 

It doesn’t take much for the girl to start slurring. At least there’s a bit of color in her cheeks now. Kaylie wonders what else she can show this mysterious girl before the night is through.


	6. Allura/Zahra: fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I intended for this to be a polyamorous set-up, with Kima well aware that Zahra is taking Allura out on a date, but I ran out of words for the drabble to put that in the text.

“Lady Kima, may I borrow your lovely wife?”

Kima glanced at Allura. “Do you wanna be borrowed, Allie?”

Allura smiled graciously. “How can I refuse such a esteemed warrior?”

Kima mouthed ‘thank you’ at Zahra as Allura turned to go. 

Zahra offered her arm to Allura in the street, which Allura accepted politely. She hid the fact that she was leaning against the other woman for support until they were out of the town proper. Then her gait began to waver slightly. 

“I apologize,” she hissed in pain, momentarily pausing. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, darling.” Zahra waited patiently. 

“Oh, stairs,” Allura eyed the steps up the Whitestone battlements warily. “I don’t think I can –”

“Not a worry.” Zahra slowly, gently, swung Allura into her arms. 

Allura laid her head against Zahra’s shoulder as they climbed higher. “Kima does this to me all the time. It’s how she started wooing me.”

Zahra set Allura on her feet at the top of the wall. They could see the town stretched out around them, the barrier flickering above them, the mountains in the distance, and the sun beyond them. 

Allura nodded grimly. “You brought me here to show me why the barrier is so important. What it protects.”

Zahra shook her head. “No, I brought you here so we could watch Kash terrorizing the recruits.”

Allura looked to where Zahra was pointing. Kashaw and a huddle of farmers stood in a crude training ground area holding quarterstaffs. Even from this distance, they could hear Kashaw’s bellowing yells. 

Allura’s face flickered, then broke into a wide grin. At a particularly descriptive bellow from Kashaw, Allura started to laugh. 

Zahra tugged a basket from a wall nook. “Hard cider while we watch the show?”

Allura accepted the glass and knocked it back easily.


	7. Keyleth/Kaylie: funerals

“Why do you sing so many songs about death?”

Kaylie frowned. “You daft?”

Keyleth glared. “It’s a perfectly reasonable question.”

Kaylie gestured vaguely in the air. “Death is everywhere. Always on people’s minds, even if they pretend it isn’t so. Stands to reason plenty of bards write songs about that. Besides,” Kaylie stretches against the headboard. “Wakes pay the best.”

Keyleth blinked. “Not weddings?”

“Nah. Everyone’s got a cousin twice removed or a second aunt who does family music. Or when it comes time to hire a band, all the money’s been spent on the food and the temple, so they’re cheap.” Kaylie wrinkles her nose. “Weddings tip well, but they don’t pay good up front. Wakes are where it’s at.”

Keyleth made a contemplative noise, rolling over onto her side. 

“What’s got you all morbid?” Kaylie asked, nudging Keyleth in the shoulder. “You’ve been spending too much time with your bird boyfriend.”

“Don’t call him that,” Keyleth sat up, the sheets pooling around her midriff.

“I’ll call him whatever I like.” Kaylie put her hands on Keyleth’s hips. “And then I’ll screw you silly. Screw the morbid thoughts right outta that pretty head.”

“I’d like to see you, um, try!” Keyleth blushed, glaring as best she could. 

“I never back down from a challenge!” Kaylie declared, shifting Keyleth around on the bed. 

“You never back down from anything! Not everything has to be a fight, you know.” Keyleth said, even as Kaylie laid her out on the mattress. 

“You’re talkin’ nonsense,” Kaylie pried apart Keyleth’s legs, pressing a kiss to each knee. “And I haven’t even screwed you silly yet.”


	8. Cassandra/Vanessa: negotiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This pairing took me completely by surprise and now I want more.

Vasselheim is cold, but Cassandra knows winter cold in her bones. She does not shiver, though her breath clouds before her face. She walks with purpose through the streets, cautioning herself not to stare like a little girl, though she has not been away from home before. 

The Slayer’s Take Guild Hall is not an especially grand building. Percival has told her of what lies beneath, cautioned her to be gracious should she be taken there. 

Cassandra waits as her escort announces her, awaits reception of someone suitably high ranking. A fire roars in the far corner of the room. While the members of her escort cluster eagerly in front of the flames, Cassandra remains slightly apart. 

“It’s warmer by the fire, milady,” says a voice. 

Cassandra resists the urge to pull the knife from her sleeve and turns to face the stranger. A tiefling with purple skin and dark hair stands before her. 

“Thank you, but I’m quite alright … Huntmaster.”

Vanessa smiles. “Shall we discuss business in my office?”

Cassandra follows Vanessa, waving off her escort. Within the Guild itself, she can take care of herself. She is not a child to be protected, no matter what Percival might think. 

The paperwork is tedious. Vanessa scans the pages with a shrewd eye, and Cassandra waits, perched on a chair carved from the bones of some slain creature. 

“Seems satisfactory,” Vanessa concludes. “Do you have accommodations for the evening?” 

Cassandra shakes her head. 

“You and your escort are welcome as guests of the guild.”

Cassandra takes Vanessa’s hand and shakes over the paperwork. “And if my room is cold tonight …?”

Vanessa raises an eyebrow, cheeks darkening. “Then … I will do my best to remedy the situation.”

“I look forward to it.” Cassandra inclines her head, and left the office.


	9. Anna Ripley/The Raven Queen: spite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technically this one went over the limit. I don't give a foot. 
> 
> Warnings: disturbing imagery, references to torture.

Anna dreams of blood. 

She often dreams of blood, but this time is different. 

A pool of blood draws closer, closer, she sinks, plunges deep beneath the rippling surface, and begins to drown. Anna struggles, grasps helplessly with her flesh hand and finds her metal hand is gone. She panics, screaming, and drowns. 

Suddenly Anna is no longer drowning in blood. She is breathing, gasping, in a dark chamber. Golden threads trail from ceiling to floor to wall. Her hair drips onto the floor. 

_Anna Ripley._

Anna whirls around for the source of the voice. Some of the darkness shifts, moves, rustles. Dark feathers. Dark hair. An impossibly large being, a woman with a mask whiter than Delilah’s face.

“What does a goddess want with the likes of me?”

_You bend the threads. You tread where few others have dared._

Anna blinks. “Your point?”

_Rudeness, against me?_

“If you wished me dead, I’d be dead. Yet, here I stand,” Anna spreads her arms, her bedraggled coat making her look quite pathetic. “You must have some reason for bringing me here.” 

_I have watched you. During so many moments, between life and death, you were there, holding a blade._ The Raven Queen reaches out, tugging on several of the golden threads. 

Images flash through Anna’s mind, her various test subjects, pretty Percival as a young man, all the villagers the Briarwoods gave her to play with. She blinks, reeling from the onslaught. 

_You will be approached soon, offered power, knowledge, the ability to have vengeance upon your enemies. But the price will be too high._

“For whom?”

 _The world._ Again she tugs the threads. 

This time the images are not memories. Anna sees towns laid waste, piles of bodies peppered with holes, castles knocked down. 

Anna falls to the ground, head spinning. 

_A warning._

Anna picks herself up and spits in the direction of the goddess, blood and saliva stark on the black floor. “A challenge.” She sneers. 

Anna wakes up in her bed. 

The next evening, she dreams of black smoke.


	10. Pike/Zahra: monstah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This pairing was too much fun. : D

Once the pounding throb of her blood had slowed to a more reasonable pace, Zahra glanced around curiously. It had been much louder than usual, but she hadn’t realized the cause until that moment. The mattress lay at a much lower level than when they had begun. The bedframe had broken down the middle. 

“You broke the bed.” Pike gasped, panting heavily still. 

“No darling, _you_ broke the bed.” Zahra stretched luxuriously. “I was only along for the ride.”

“You helped!” Pike waved vaguely over Zahra’s naked form. 

“Not enough, evidently,” Zahra slid a finger underneath the harness at Pike’s waist, feeling for the buckles. “If you’re still able to string together coherent sentences, I didn’t do nearly enough.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t object to some assistance,” Pike admitted. She sounded almost bashful, which was utterly at odds with her state: red faced and naked, wearing a harness around her waist attached to something that had been carved to resemble the more exaggerated lengths that men in taverns boasted to possess. 

Zahra removed the harness and carefully set it aside. “You’ve seen to me fantastically, darling. Now, would you be so kind as to let me taste you?”

“Taste me?” Pike considered Zahra. “Well …”

Zahra flicked out her forked tongue. 

Pike grinned. “I’d be honored.”

Zahra put her hands on Pike’s hips, guiding her up to straddle her face. “Steady … steady …” she shifted the smaller woman a bit. “Hold onto something, darling.”

“Like what?!” Pike pointed at the broken headboard, which largely lay in pieces on the floor. 

Zahara smirked, took Pike’s hands, and put them on her horns. “There you go, now hold tight.” She licked her lips and tilted her head forward. 

Pike’s knees clenched around Zahra’s head, and her hands grasped Zahra’s horns with slick, sweaty fingers.


	11. Anna Ripley/Raishan: bickering (over Percy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *wails* My evil science wives are alive in my heart, ok?
> 
> Warnings: violence, torture, references to psychological torture.

“I cannot believe you lost him.”

Raishan snarled. “Mind your tongue.”

“Percival is too clever by half. This will only embolden him and encourage future attempts.” Anna fidgeted with her metal hand. “I’m beginning to doubt we can break him.”

“A fascinating idea, to be explored later, when he is back.” Raishan shifted her wings. “Come, let us reclaim our pet.”

Anna clambered onto Raishan’s, nestling herself at the crook of her neck and shoulder. She shouldered the rifle on her back.

Raishan took flight, circling the swamps. Anna scanned, with her eyes and with the spyglass kept around her neck. “I see him! South, trying to lose us in the trees!”

Raishan swooped in that direction. 

“Let me shoot him from the air.” Anna had the rifle loaded already.

“No. You might kill him.”

“You could bring him back.”

“Do not shoot him yet.”

Anna sighed heavily. 

Raishan dove, seizing the tree Percy was hiding in and ripping it from the ground, before letting it slide from her claws. Percy scrambled, falling, half trapped by the branches of his hiding place. 

Raishan landed. Anna slid from her back and hefted the rifle, aiming it at Percy. 

“Tire of me already?” Percy asked, laughing through the pain. Anna could see his leg bent at an unnatural angle. 

“Never, dear Percival.” Anna poked at the leg with the rifle and smiled as he howled in agony. 

Raishan pushed the tree away, leaving Percy splayed out on the forest floor. “Do you grow weary of your stay in my lair, little ant? You need only say the word, and I will stop holding the doctor back.”

“You don’t hold me back, you present … equally enticing opportunities.” Anna watched Percy squirming. “Shall we go home?”

“Oh yes,” Raishan seized Percy in her claws.


	12. Delilah Briarwood/Kima: radiance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the more disturbing things I've written of late. 
> 
> Warnings: sexual assault due to mind control of the victim, references to violence and torture.

“Isn’t this nice?”

“Yes, my lady.” Kima answers flatly, her voice steady and measured. 

“Sylas and I used to love walking together, back in Wildmount. We had such lovely grounds there, gardens tended to yearly. The hedge maze was delightful. Sometimes we’d let peasant girls loose in it and chase them down. Such fun.”

“Yes, my lady.” Kima feels righteous anger burning in her belly, but she can’t seem to summon it up any farther. She can no more raise her arms to strike at Lady Delilah than she can stop breathing. 

“Ah well. Sylas and I sometimes walk at night. Afternoon promenades are lost to us now.” Delilah touches Kima on the shoulder. “I am so fortunate to be blessed by your company, Lady Kima. You are a renowned warrior. Even in Wildmount, we had heard of you. Your skills in battle, your talent for winning the hearts of maidens.”

Allie. Allie will be wondering where she is, why she hasn’t returned from her quest to Whitestone. Allie will send help, surely, alert the council of Emon to the dangers of Whitestone? Kima has to hope. She is incapable of fighting or fleeing or sending for aid herself. 

“Truthfully, I do see the appeal.” Delilah sits on a stone bench in the dead castle garden and pats the spot beside her. 

Kima moves and sits, joints fighting her will. 

“You shine, Lady Kima. Like sunlight. Sometimes I miss the sunlight.” Delilah leans forward. “Kiss me.”

Kima presses her lips to Delilah’s cheek. A chaste kiss, of friendship. 

“Kiss my lips, you little fool.”

Kima does so. Delilah is cold, and the coloring on her lips tastes of blood. Perhaps it contains blood. Kima cannot draw away. Kima cannot pretend this is Allie. Kissing Delilah is nothing like kissing Allie.


	13. Vex'ahlia/Vanessa: profit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More people should write this pairing!

“I thought rangers were supposed to have clever fingers.” Vanessa huffed in frustration. “Just what are you doing down there?”

Vex looked up, pouting. “It’s not meant to be a race, darling,” she purred. 

“If I wanted words like that, I’d have called on my husband.” Vanessa reached down and yanked, hard, on Vex’s braid. 

Vex yelped, more in shock than pain. 

“Time is money, girl, and you’re wasting mine.” Vanessa spread her legs wider. “Some free advice, if your tongue is free enough to try sweet talk, you’re not giving it your all.”

Vex crawled closer on the bed, lowering her head meekly, or at least in an imitation of meekness. 

“Ahhh … there you go, that’s the spirit,” Vanessa groaned with satisfaction, letting her head fall back onto the pile of furs. “Finally, was beginning to question my assessment of your skills … fuck!” 

Vex’s teeth grazed Vanessa just enough to sting. 

“Never doubt me again.” Vex said, before ducking down once more. 

“Don’t give me reasons to. If I’m making an investment in a paramour, I want to know their worth.”

Vex wriggled her tongue. “Well if I’m not worth your time, Huntmaster, perhaps I should just leave –”

Vanessa reached and seized a fistful of Vex’s hair, already escaping its braid. “Don’t you dare stop. There’s a bounty out on another hydra, they need someone to play the bait.”

“Abusing your authority?” Vex’s eyebrows rise and fall as she returns to her task. 

“A light punishment for an attempted assassination, which is what I would call you leaving me in this state.” Vanessa trailed off into a series of low moans. Her back arched and her feet kicked, shoving blankets to the floor. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Vex giggled. 

“Assassin …” Vanessa growled, finally cresting into her orgasm.


	14. Pike/Delilah Briarwood: rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I don't know the right term, but whatever demanding a kiss for information is, that's in this fic. Sexual coercion?

“Why do you try, again and again?” Delilah glares through the bars of her cell. “I will give you nothing.”

“Not today, perhaps,” Pike shrugs, “but there’s always tomorrow. New days bring new chances, new outlooks.”

Delilah sneers. “Do you really believe that, little cleric?”

“Yes.” 

Delilah Briarwood was kept from the mobs, and Percy’s rage. The mysterious sphere is still below, the anti-magic field, and Vecna’s agents to root out. 

She refuses to speak to any of them, save Pike. 

“You think I can be redeemed?” Delilah barks a laugh. 

“That’s not up to me, that’s up to you,” Pike waves a hand in the air. “You could undo some of the damage you’ve done. You could save lives, instead of end them.”

Delilah almost snarls. “What do you think I was doing?! Sylas … my Sylas …” her voice cracks. “You killed him. You and that druid. Do you remember the girl I strung up on the Sun Tree as her effigy? Pretty little thing. I wanted to keep her, but we needed a warning, so up she went, kicking and screaming all the way.”

Pike winces.

“Have a struck a nerve, little one?” Delilah crouches on the floor of her cell, leaning against the bars. “That’s not the worst thing I did, at all.”

“If you’re going to start listing off things again, I’m leaving,” Pike cautions. 

“I’ll tell you a secret, if you give me something.”

Pike sighs. “What?”

“A kiss.”

Pike’s eyebrows rise. 

“Or am I too disgusting for you to touch?” 

Pike frowns. “For a secret.” She darts forward, pressing her lips to Delilah’s through the bars. 

Delilah sighs, contented. “There’s a Vecna cultist back in Emon, on the council.”

Pike nods. “Thank you.”

“Don’t. It was a trade.”

“Perhaps.” Pike leaves. 

Delilah licks her lips.


End file.
